Words and Actions
by kuro mirai
Summary: RenxKyoko. Major Character death. Future Fic. She was living a world she had shaped her own.


**WORDS AND ACTIONS**

**Kuro Mirai**

**Disclaimer**: I don't own Skip Beat. Though I wish I did. I really do.

**Pairing**: RenxKyoko. If you squint really hard

_**WARNING: **__Major character death. _

_I was setting myself up, seriously, I kept writing a monster._

_

* * *

Words were important._

_She understood that. On the other hand, there's a time for words and a time for action. There's a time to be silent, listen for cues, and take your hands out and do something. It is those times that have more meaning, more importance._

_Because no matter how much words spew out of your mouth, sometimes, it is the subtle nuances, a slight tilt of the lips, a small glance, a whisper of touch, a sparkle in the eye, that better describes a person's innermost thoughts, than mere words._

_After all, words can be faked._

_Actions are harder. They revealed the true nature of the person, more than words ever could._

_Or do they?_

. . . . . .

She was experiencing a natural high. The world around her was spinning around and around. The world buzzed around her, loud and overpowering. All she could do was think of nothing but the darkness that surrounded her. Lying there amongst the crumpled grass and dirt, she could feel herself go cold, and shiver at the night air.

Her world was surreal, and so very much full of illusions. Reality would continuously bend and break around her. It had become the norm, that anything else would put her at an alert. To what ends would she go through to break reality and keep it in such a way that it would continuously break, never to be repaired again?

Her form was lifeless, and unmoving, as if she was a doll, a marionette. Her fingers rested on the neck of a slim bottle. Her other hand clutched a small stone. She wore a white dress that went past her knees. It was bunched up against her thighs, as one of her legs was bent, and the other straight. The dress was smudged with patches of dirt and grass. Her feet were bare and dug into the earth and grass, toes moving as if she was testing their mobility.

Her eyes looked up at the clear night sky. She smelled the fresh scent of grass. When she was little, she could remember when she traipsed through the forest in her haze to find a place where she could find privacy. It was not her nature to bother others, more especially with her tears and worries. What she had found had become her private room.

The woods offered her silence and peace, where she could cry and vent at everything, without bothering anyone else. It was her refuge. It was childish. It was immature. But it made her feel safe. It made her calm and be at peace once more.

A place where she could have solitude was her substitute for human comfort.

At nights, she would look up and see millions of stars. The night sky was so dark, and foreboding, it should have scared her. But the moon was bright and the light that shone through the forest was inviting. She imagined fairies, nymphs and other woodland creatures inviting her in, holding her hand. Every gust of wind was a caress of some woodland fairy. Every sound was the music of nymphs. The forest was an illusion of magic. The night sky was a calm black river, and the stars were souls that twinkled and sparkled.

She could believe in fairytales so readily because they appealed to her then. They explained everything. And they gave her hope.

But the forest was so far away from her now. This garden she was in could not compare to the beauty of that forest, nor would she want to. This place was so different. There were too many lights in this city to properly see the stars. Even a place slightly secluded from the metropolitan center could not offer any competition to the best night sky she had seen as a child in her forest.

Fantasies and childhood dreams.

As a child, she had been idealistic, head wrapped up in a world full of fairies and magic.

It hadn't disappeared. She was just as wrapped up now as had been then. Her experiences gave way to maturity, but it didn't erase that particular quality of hers. It just…morphed, into something more real, more physical.

She thinks to herself that unlike when she was a child who dreamed of living in a fantasy, she was now living in her own real-life fantasy world. From princesses to fairies to villains, she can become any person, with the right clothes and the right actions. She lived in a world of lights and glamour, of glittering dresses and sparkling smiles.

It was a very demanding world. But this was the world she chose to live in, the world she shaped out of her own two hands. For so long she had dreamed of being in this position, with her own fantasy world, living the life of a princess.

She's a princess now. She's taken on many roles – princesses, villains, bullies, angels, demons – she took them all and more. It gave her a satisfaction unlike any other, and she gave each role her very soul and existence. Acting was her passion and her vice. Her methods concerning her roles were different from others'. Most people would call her scary, for the simple fact that instead of acting a role, her characters took on a life of their own.

She didn't act her characters. She lived them.

_. . . . . ._

_She closed her eyes and dreamed._

_. . . . . .  
_

She could remember vividly how and *when* her world turned and twisted into this weird semblance of irrationality.

_She supposes she could start with once upon a time. _

Once upon a time, there was a fairy prince who fled from his home to learn how to spread his wings and fly. He hid among humans. It was odd, and there was no apparent reason why he did so. Perhaps it had something to do with the little human girl he had met during the springtime of his youth. Perhaps not. But he was there.

He built a new life, a new identity and worked from the bottom. He didn't remain there long. His swift climb to the top made waves. He was enjoying his position at the top when a familiar face had showed up in the bottom rungs of the ladder he climbed.

It was the little human girl. She brought with her the memories of years past, and a resolution of future vengeance. He found out what happened to the little human girl. The girl that had once been full of love and joy had become embittered. She had lost the love she had harbored within herself, as she had been tossed and used.

He was intrigued. Many times, he had tried to bring out the love that was hidden beneath the walls she had erected within her heart. Many times he failed. So much that he lowered his expectations a lot, when it came to the girl. He was patient and understood that he needed to be careful with the little girl's heart.

It was something he took upon himself. But it was fast becoming something he wanted, and didn't want to have at the same time. The girl was breaking the walls he himself had built over his own heart.

For too long, he had been shackled with blood, bound by his own hands. His resolve was never to falter, and to never let anyone else in, lest he forgets the taint in his soul. To fly free and still be shackled – it was an impossible feat, but one which he dared to do, because it was the only thing he could do.

_He tried to pull away, but the girl had gotten so far inside and he didn't know how but she had captured him. _

_She did not know when or how, but he became the constant in her life that she couldn't live without. _

Their story was really only just beginning to take shape. There were obstacles along the way, and so much they had to prove, to themselves, to each other, and to everyone else.

_. . . . . ._

_When the clock struck at midnight, Cinderella's dance with the Prince at the ball had ended._

_When the clock struck at midnight, the fairy prince and the little human girl were ripped apart_.

. . . . . .

There was no happily ever after.

There were a lot of tears though…and a lot of mourning.

Oddly enough, it didn't even come from anyone she knew. There was just a lull in work, and she thought to pass her time by surfing through the television channels, when she saw the news report. She was in denial for hours until the President called her to tell the news to her himself.

_A plane crash._

People around her, her close friends and family could see the immediate change in her, the desolation that followed. Her eyes were lifeless and cold. Her actions were animated and forced, her smiles were faked. Days turned into weeks, which turned into months, and still she mourned.

Her Otou-san and Okaa-san had supported her all the while. Phone calls and emails were passed between them. It helped assuage their anguish at the loss. A funeral was held in Japan and then in his home country. They buried him in America. She put a blank marker in the forest where they first met. He had given that particular piece of the forest to her as a gift on her birthday.

Just as suddenly as her world started to tilt, there came the balance that had become her irrational world. Quickly, yet steadily, she had risen through the same rungs of the ladder and made her way to the top. She created her own world, lived in her own version of a world of fantasy and dreams.

Years later, she was still there, at the top. Her friends and the familial bonds she had made along the way were still strong and still existing.

Perhaps it was the last straw that broke her back. It's not as if she had sworn off love. She understands that there was a chance for her to love again. To find another reason for her to live. She had found that once, after her heart was broken and used the first time. She didn't know whether she could believe that it will happen to her again. LME's President had espoused the wonders of love. Years of being subjected to his "missions of love" had made its impact. While she would have rejected it outright, the President did have a point.

Her Otou-san and Okaa-san, the Taisho and the Okami at Daruma-ya, her friends, Moko-san and Chiori-san, Maria-chan, the President, Yashiro-san and everyone she had met and befriended, had given their own brand of support. They gave her space, but didn't allow her to wallow in misery. They pulled her up whenever she found herself in danger of falling into the darkness.

There were still times, though, when she would slip and find herself down.

Like tonight.

She would dream her fantasies of happily ever afters, and fairytale endings, with the fairy prince sweeping the girl off her feet, pulling her into his arms and flying off into the night sky towards his royal palace in the fairy wonderland (She understands that this was as screwed up as fairytales go, but then again, this was her fairytale). Her hands would clutch the slim bottle and shake it a little. It would make her light up, and her mind would wander into her fantasies again.

At times like these, she would need to be shaken up and roused from her dreamlike state.

Often, it was only her Otou-san and Okaa-san or her best friend who could do wake her up when she would plunge into her world. Lately, she had been getting wake up calls from others as well. It was a constant source of amusement for her Otou-san and Okaa-san.

She opened her eyes and watched the stars again. The garden was quiet, and she could feel the wind. She wondered briefly if he was watching her right now, if he was the wind caressing her. Sometimes, she could swear she sees his shadow sometimes, but those times, she would be far gone into her dream world that she didn't know whether it was real or not.

She suddenly let out a short cry as the breath was knocked from her. She felt a heavy weight on top of her, and her arms were strewn to her sides.

It woke her from her dreams.

She would have glared at the interruption, but instead, her eyes softened at the sight before her. She stared at the blond hair and familiar eyes. They blinked up at her with innocence and a quality that she had only seen in _him_.

Unblinking eyes went towards the items she had on her hands. She followed the path of the gazes and sighed, grabbing hands and sitting upright so suddenly, eliciting a small scream from the parties. They sat up and she patted herself down, smiling as she made herself as presentable as she could despite the dirt and grass sticking on her.

"Mother?" Twin pair of voices called out to her, and she watched as they tilted their heads toward the side, displaying a small hesitance that she knew could only come from her. They were similar in appearance, but the boy had more of her traces in him while the little girl had a closer appearance to her father.

She smiled encouragingly and motioned them closer to her. She knew they were curious at the things in her hands. They leaned closer and she brought her hands closer to them, and they saw a blue stone and a small slim bottle. They thought it looked a little ordinary, and "S_o why was she holding them like they were small treasures?_"

She laughed at their question and showed them the bottle first. At first they thought it was just an ordinary bottle. But when they looked closely, they could see the liquid inside glow. They gasped in delighted surprise. She could see the questions that were bubbling to come out (another thing she's absolutely sure came from her), so she staved them off, before showing the stone in her other hand. The used the moonlight's glow, the change was slight but noticeable.

That's when the damn burst and questions came pouring out. She was smiling, even as they bombarded her with puppy looks. It brought a sense of nostalgia in her. Many times that look had been used on her by another, the same man she had been in love with for the past ten years.

Their children are growing up well, a conglomeration of his and hers. He wasn't here, but she could see small hints of him in them. Especially when they become like this, looking at her with those eyes. She was almost lost in her thoughts again before she caught herself and started to tell them a story she knew by heart from long ago.

She was interrupted by a call from the inside of the house.

"Kyoko-chan?" She heard the familiar voice of her Otou-san. "It's almost dinner time, have you seen the children? They were supposed to get you."

"Yes, Otou-san, they're here with me."

He heard a rustle of clothes, a whisper of continuation of the story after dinner and a set of footsteps. "Well, get in and wash up. All three of you." A small chuckle was heard from the man as he saw the threes' rumpled and dirty appearance. Three faces grinned up at him.

"Kuu? Did you call them in?" A female voice from deep inside the house called out.

"Ah they're going to wash up now, and getting ready for dinner." He shooed them in, and he heard several laughing cries of "Granpa!" and "Otou-san!"

Kyoko laughed along with her children as she followed them towards the bathrooms.

The words they had uttered at the beginning of their marriage, their wishes and dreams of a happy and complete family, they lived on in her heart. While his words would no longer be heard, she made sure everyone could hear it in her actions.

She was now living out the role she and her husband had created years prior.

_A mother_.

* * *

ACK! I finally finished it.


End file.
